Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 55375 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 277(@200wpm)___ 222(@250wpm)___ 185(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55375 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 277(@200wpm)___ 222(@250wpm)___ 185(@300wpm)
“How haven’t I heard about this?” she asks. “I mean, even online, there’s no mention of anything.”
She’s been searching for me online, then. I can’t think about her sitting in bed, maybe with some PJs that show off her thick legs, biting her lip as she searches me online. Goddamn it, Mike is sleeping right there. Yet I can’t forget the way his daughter moaned and the way I left her, kneeling and covered in my release. What the fuck is wrong with me?
“That’s on purpose,” I tell her. “Officially, I’m living on my pension. I don’t have a lavish lifestyle. There’s no reason for anybody to suspect any different. Anyway, all the money goes into the company. There was so much we couldn’t do when I worked for the Feds.” My voice gets a rare tinge of passion. It’s like, with my woman, I can let out some of this fire. Yet it’s so wrong with her dad right across from me.
“The worst part was that we often couldn’t bring the kids home. That’s why I started the company. We build relationships with foreign police forces. We offer our help, and, honestly, Emma?”
“Yeah, I’d always prefer you to be honest.”
She looks at me with intensity. I focus on the road to stop us from crashing. It’s not as though there’s any traffic to worry about, but just the sight and the closeness of her is almost enough to send me into an obsessive fury again. The way I grabbed her, owned her, fuck.
Stop.
“Sometimes,” I go on, “I hurt those bastards way more than I’d be able to under Uncle Sam’s watch. Explain to me why you should be able to break into a child’s home, steal them, then live. Explain that.”
She blinks, and I realize I’m letting out too much. Mike is still stubbornly asleep. He’s always been able to sleep easily, a skill I envy.
“That’s not right,” she says.
I shift against the seat. I must wince a little because Emma asks, “Are you hurt?”
The grubby loft flashes in my mind, Rafael and the whip, the men staring. I had to time all of it so perfectly. I knew the shock would only give me a few seconds. I swept through the motions like a dance, smashing Rafael in the face, grabbing his gun, and shooting the guards who got in my way.
If I’d had time, I would’ve turned and shot Rafael, too. It would’ve been better than the lowlife deserved, but I had to focus on my escape, Mike, and Emma. If he even tried to hurt her…
“I’m fine.”
“You don’t seem fine.”
Mike snorts from beside us. I think he’s waking up. I’m half grateful for it because it means the questions will stop, but there’s also something comforting about speaking to Emma. It makes me feel calmer than I have in a long time, maybe ever, especially after the madness in Mexico.
“Just a couple of battle wounds,” I tell her.
“I guess that’s the reason we’re running, then?”
“Give me your theory.”
“Okay, rude.”
I chuckle. I can’t help it as I drive down the ghostly highway. “Was I being rude?”
“I don’t think you even realize it,” she says with a grin. “I think it just comes naturally to you. You get this mean tone like you want to keep people away.”
“Maybe that’s what it’s for,” I say.
“Do you want to keep me away, then?” she says, a hitch in her voice.
I glance at Mike, leaning against the window, snoring peacefully. I don’t think he’s pretending to be asleep. I’ve broken into enough homes to tell when it’s real, or somebody is lying too stiffly or alert, and then they spring up. Even this is fucked, having to wonder if my best friend is faking sleep.
I don’t answer her question.
“Do you still want my theory?” she asks after a pause.
“Sure.”
“You got into some trouble with some bad men. They threatened Dad. Now, we’re on the run.”
I sigh darkly. “I’m not sure your dad would want you to know that.”
“Don’t lie to me,” she says. “I heard you before. It was your idea not to tell me.”
“I didn’t want to scare you,” I snap.
“If we’re in danger, maybe I should be scared.”
“No, you shouldn’t,” I growl far too passionately. “You don’t have to be afraid of anything, Emma. That’s why I’m here.”
I remember how Rafael grinned as she showed me the photo, thinking it was Mike my heart was hammering for. He grinned, flashing a gold tooth from the back of his mouth and a silver one at the front, giving his smile a strange winking effect.
“Shouldn’t we call the cops?” she asks.
“The cops won’t be able to do anything. Nobody would take this case. It’s a threat made to scare me because their torture didn’t work out. It doesn’t tick any of the right boxes.”